


Year Apart

by InterstellarRenegade



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Fluff, Kuroo Tetsurou's Birthday, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterstellarRenegade/pseuds/InterstellarRenegade
Summary: This was the first year since they were children that Kuroo would spend his birthday separate from Kenma.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't just not write something for Kuroo's birthday c'mon

Kuroo could remember his last birthday well. It was his first birthday after they’d gotten together, and Kenma had asked him to sleepover the day before – actually asked, for once – and they’d spent the weekend afternoon playing games in Kenma’s bedroom. It had been like usual, except for when Kenma would tilt his head back and bring Kuroo’s lips to his, and they would ignore the game for half an hour to just take up each other’s space. But despite how much Kuroo loved to make out and fool around with Kenma, that hadn’t been his favorite part.

It had been when he was falling asleep, face-down in Kenma’s pillows. Kenma had been right next to him, propped up against the headboard and playing his DS quietly. Kuroo had been half-asleep when he heard the DS shut, felt Kenma lean over him, careful not to disturb him. He’d cupped his hands around Kuroo’s ear.

“Happy birthday,” Kenma had whispered at exactly midnight, and Kuroo had never been happier.

Kuroo thought that birthday was probably his best so far, right above his eighth, when he had gotten his first bicycle. And not that his current birthday had been bad, just – different. He was in college an hour and a half away from Kenma. Sure, he shared an apartment with Bokuto, who’d already made it his mission to give Kuroo the best birthday possible, but Kuroo was still feeling a little…lost. Like he was missing something.

They had tried to plan it so that Kenma could come visit, or Kuroo could go visit him, but Kuroo’s birthday had fallen on a weekday this year, which meant classes and volleyball practice for the both of them. They both had matches on the weekend, too. So, this was the first year since they were children that Kuroo would spend his birthday separate from Kenma.

It hadn’t been bad. He’d woken up to a handful of birthday texts from his friends, Bokuto had made a surprisingly good breakfast, and had taken him out to lunch between their classes. Not to mention the horrendous Christmas sweater Bokuto had gifted him, which he planned to wear every single day of December. Bokuto knew just what he liked, truly.

“Just picked up your package, kitten,” Kuroo narrated into his phone, closing the door of his and Bokuto’s mailbox in the lobby of their apartment building. “It’s bigger than I was expecting.”

“Hm,” Kenma mused on the other end of the line; Kuroo already knew he was playing a game while they talked. “Don’t open it while you’re on the phone with me.”

Kuroo almost teased, but just hummed in admission instead. “Alright. I’ll open it later. How was practice?”

Both had been home for about an hour from their practices but had only called each other about ten minutes ago, after they’d showered and eaten dinner. Kuroo’s hair was still wet, and it sent a chill under his skin as he ventured outside to climb the stairs back up to the apartment, the box Kenma had sent him under one arm.

“Fine,” was all Kenma responded with.

“C’mon, Kenma,” Kuroo whined. “Tell me about it. Complain about the first years, or something.”

Kenma sighed, and Kuroo heard fabric rustling through the phone. “Fine. I guess – the one who’s supposed to take over as setter after I leave – he’s annoying.”

Kuroo snorted, sandwiching his phone between his ear and shoulder momentarily so he could open the apartment door. “How so?”

“He’s too serious,” Kenma went on. “He apologizes like five times whenever he makes a mistake. It’s hard to deal with.”

Kuroo gave a nod to Bokuto as he passed by him in the living room, heading for his room down the hall. “Is he a good player?”

Another sigh. “Yeah, I guess so. The team is still having a hard time syncing with him, though.”

“Probably because you’re on such a higher level than him,” Kuroo cooed, setting his box on his desk and flopping down on his bed. “They’re not used to anything but the best.”

“Shut up,” Kenma grumbled.

Kuroo laughed, hoping Kenma was blushing because of the praise and wishing he could see it. “Well, at least your team didn’t try to sing “Happy Birthday” to you in the changing room.”

They stayed on the phone for a few hours, Kuroo trying to milk the call for all it was worth. Kenma didn’t like talking on the phone, and had only agreed to because Kuroo had guilted him into it for his birthday. There were times when they both fell silent, but Kuroo was content just to hear Kenma’s breathing in his ear for as long as he could.

“Can I really not open my present while we’re on the phone?” Kuroo asked around eleven.

“You can’t,” Kenma confirmed, sounding a little more reserved.

“Why not?” Kuroo whined, getting up to grab the box from where it lay untouched on his desk.

“Because,” Kenma mumbled. “It’s embarrassing.”

Kuroo smiled softly, tapping his fingers against the cardboard. “If you insist. I think I’ll hang up then, but I’ll probably call you back.”

Kenma huffed but said goodbye, and Kuroo followed suit, excited to see what Kenma had sent him. In previous years Kuroo had always practically instructed Kenma on what he’d like as a present, because he knew it made Kenma feel better to know he was getting something Kuroo was sure to like. There were a lot of years where they’d go to the bookstore and Kenma would insist on buying the book he wanted for him. This year Kuroo was prepared to be totally surprised.

Taking a pair of scissors from his desk drawer, Kuroo carefully cut through the tape on top of the box and pulled the flaps apart to reveal the contents. Whatever was inside was covered with a layer of thin gray tissue paper, and Kuroo spotted a card that had slid off to the side of the box. He plucked it out first, taking care not to rip the envelope as he opened it. Inside was a letter from Kenma, something that warmed Kuroo’s heart before he even read it.

 _You should probably look through the box first or this letter won’t make any sense_ , was the first line, and Kuroo chuckled at Kenma’s forwardness through writing.

Kuroo took the advice, using his free hand to push aside the tissue paper and view what the rest of the box held for him. He was surprised to see a few different things, most noticeably a fluffy pillow squished up against one side of the box. Next to it was a stack of two books, the first two in a new series he had wanted to start reading. The box itself was decorated on the inside, inked with designs Kuroo easily recognized as Kenma’s handiwork from years of watching him draw, and strategically placed flowery stickers that made Kuroo’s brow furrow. They didn’t quite seem like Kenma’s style, so he turned back to the letter for guidance.

 _Shouyou helped me decorate the box_ – Kuroo almost hummed, the pieces clicking together finally – _and he went with me to the mall so I could buy you the pillow._

Kuroo snatched the pillow from the box, realizing its shape once it was free of its confines. It was a smiling cat’s face, with fluffy, multi-colored, and soft fur, and Kuroo grinned happily and buried his red face in it, overcome by how cute Kenma was for getting him something like it. He took a deep breath and realized the pillow smelled like Kenma, and wondered how long ago it had been bought. Maybe Kenma had slept with it himself for a while before sending it Kuroo’s way. The thought made Kuroo embarrassingly giddy, and he crushed the pillow against his torso to keep reading the letter.

_I remembered you telling me about this series you wanted to read a little while ago, so I went to the bookstore with Akaashi. The first book is from me and the second is from him, and he told me to tell you he says “happy birthday,” although I’m pretty sure he’ll just text you like everyone else._

Kuroo snorted at how Kenma could still sound annoyed while writing a letter, and also because he had been right. Akaashi’s text had been amongst the others Kuroo had received that morning.

_The last thing is just for you, okay? Don’t show anyone else._

Kuroo froze after reading that, mind spinning on what could possibly be left in the box that required that sort of instruction. Kenma wouldn’t even send him a selfie when asked, so Kuroo was sure it wasn’t any promiscuous pictures. He hadn’t even seen anything else in the box, but when he moved the books out he saw a worn, spiral-bound notebook that he immediately recognized.

 _It’s the first sketchbook you got me_ , Kenma’s letter went on. _When we were in grade school, remember? I used it a lot, but I never finished it, so when I found it a few months ago I decided I would. You noticed when I started using it again. I wanted you to have it, since you gave it to me, and you always liked to watch me draw, which made me want to draw more_

The sentence abruptly cut off, Kuroo assumed, because Kenma had gotten embarrassed while writing. The letter continued on the next line with, _Anyway, I hope you like everything. Happy birthday, Kuro._

Kuroo flipped open the sketchbook immediately, greeted on the first page with a drawing in crayon, probably created when Kenma was six years old, if Kuroo remembered correctly. It wasn’t of anything necessarily, just a design, the rudimentary version of the intricate and swirling patterns Kenma created in the present.

A few more pages and Kuroo was met with a landscape, sketched in pencil and then colored in with marker. He recognized it as the playground at their elementary school, and could recall how Kenma would sit under the tree outside the playground with the very sketchbook almost every day. Looking closer, Kuroo thought he could recognize himself standing on top of a swing, little more than a stick figure with a blob of black marker on top of his head.

Kuroo could stay up all night analyzing each picture, but he wanted to leave some to savor another day. He flipped through quickly, seeing the quality of drawings change, as well as the medium and style as Kenma grew up. Kuroo started to see himself depicted more often as Kenma’s drawings became more refined. There were sketches of him playing volleyball, stretched out on Kenma’s bed, reading a book, asleep, head on his desk during class – the list went on. Kuroo wondered, face flushed, if this is when Kenma had started to like him.

There was a distinct shift a little more than halfway through the book where Kenma had stopped drawing in it for years before picking it back up recently. The lines he drew were sharp and careful now to create his own little masterpieces. There was a sketch of an excited-looking Hinata. One of Akaashi, bent over a book at his desk. One of Bokuto and Akaashi, wrapped around each other while they slept at the end of the couch. Kuroo remembered watching over Kenma’s shoulder as he drew that one. And interspersed throughout the sketches of others were ones of Kuroo. Smiling, laughing, upset, asleep. It seemed like Kenma had taken every opportunity he had to draw Kuroo, whether they were visiting each other or not. The last page was blank, save for a tiny heart in the bottom right corner.

Kuroo let the sketchbook fall shut and squeezed his new pillow against himself, smiling with watery eyes. He reached around to find his phone atop his bedsheets, dialing Kenma’s number immediately.

“Hey, kitten,” Kuroo said softly after he was directed to voicemail. “I didn’t think you’d pick up, and that’s fine. I just wanted to tell you – thank you, and I love you. This has been a really great birthday.”

Kuroo hung up and opened up his text conversation with Kenma, waiting. Sure enough, a minute later Kenma started typing, then stopped. Started again, then stopped. Kuroo could almost feel Kenma’s frustration as he watched the little dots appear and disappear over and over again; the poor kid had never found it easy expressing himself in words. Finally, though, Kuroo got the message.

**11:58 pm**  
_Happy birthday_

**11:59**  
_< 3_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed, comments/kudos are always appreciated ^^


End file.
